The Hut Beyond the Veil
by clarityace
Summary: Young Bolt just met a very peculiar old man - who called himself the 'Toad Sage' - in an extremely odd place, and through a really strange manner. Yet he still didn't have any idea who this man was, except he could very well be just a crazy old fan of his father. So why then was Boruto so drawn to him?


"Boruto! Snack is ready!"

Thinking too much about his ninth birthday, although it was still a week away, little Bolt sat rather gloomily on his bed, his eyes hurting at the reflection of sunlight against his bedroom window. Still, he stared at it, wondering how many of his playmates were now having fun without him. He couldn't help but feel so defeated. Today wasn't going to be a fun day.

"Nii-san," a small voice called from the hallway, and a curious Himawari soon was peeked from behind the doorframe. "It's time to eat. Mama made us sammiches."

Boruto looked at her with tired eyes, his stomach churning painfully while the thought of food made him vomit. "Sorry, but I'm not hungry."

Himawari looked saddened by his response, now that he wouldn't be eating with them. She skipped toward him and climbed up his lap. Boruto laughed as she cluelessly placed her hand on his forehead; she must have seen her mother doing it before.

"I'm okay, just not hungry," he said, trying to fake a smile, but soon after his stomach growled, loud enough for his sister to head. "Ugh, this sucks."

Hima laughed. "I'll bring you a sammich," she said happily, and before Bolt could refuse the offer, she had already run out of his room.

Outside, he could hear other children banter against each other. He couldn't see them from where his room was but he was sure they were nearby, at the usual spot where they often played. He frowned. He was always the center and the cause of their banter, _how dare they do it without him?_

He kicked and flung his legs back to his bed angrily, grabbing the old Sixth Hokage plushie which he had found in his father's old things. He looked at it, deciding he still felt like wallowing. "Rokudaime, I want to play too," he said. "I know I am not a weak boy, so why do I feel sick?"

As he slumped back his bed and pulled the sheets to cover his head, Hima darted into his room and tripped. Boruto heard her fall with soft thud and a plate clashed down the wooden floor. "Ow," she sat up, touching her head. "Oh no, I wasted a sammich," she gasped, staring at the sandwich lying on the floor.

Bolt reached toward her and offered his hand to help her get up. "Careful Hima, you always run so you always hurt yourself," he said. He picked up the sandwich and looked at it. "Don't worry. It's still good, I can still eat it."

"No!" Hima tried to reach for it but her older brother already took a bite. Bolt held it over his head high enough so his sister could not reach it. "Don't, nii-chan! That's dirty already."

"Is not," Bolt said with his mouth full, just right after taking another bite. Soon his face contorted, and he was reminded he felt sick. "Okay... maybe not," he ran toward the trash bin under his table, and got rid of the bread in his mouth. Though it tasted good, as it always had, he couldn't stand it right now. Himawari watched him with worried eyes.

As he straightened up, his attention was caught by a strange object near Hima's feet, the one which she might have tripped over.

"Hey, what's this?" he asked, bending down to pick it up. "Ow! Ow, that hurt," he yelped, as a small fragment of glass on the floor came in contact with his finger. He ignored it, and focused on the interesting object he was now holding.

"Hm, I dunno," Hima said, eyeing the scroll in Bolt's hand. "Nii-san, I'll go down now, I'm hungry," she looked at her brother with pleading eyes.

"Okay, thank you for the sammich, Hima," he smiled at her.

As soon as Hima exited his room, he sat on his bed. He placed the sandwich on his lap, and examined the scroll more intently.

 _Toads, toads, and even more funny looking toads?_

He noted, looking at the funny drawings scribbled around it. Without thinking twice, he opened it. He spread the scroll across his bed, his half-eaten sandwich now forgotten, and he looked in wonder, as it revealed more colorful pictures inside it.

At the lower right corner, was the outline of a right hand. Boruto placed his own hand over it, but the outline was too big. His curiosity wandered back to the colorful scribbles, most of which little Bolt could not understand yet. His finger traced each of them, and he thought each color of ink was uniquely beautiful. Some of them glittered as sunlight shone over it. He's going to show this to his dad as soon as he gets home.

A smile made its way across his face and he felt so giddy, knowing he'd found something Naruto would like to see. With so much excitement bubbling inside of him, stirring him away from the gloomy feeling he'd had since this morning, he rolled the scroll hastily and tucked it under his pillow.

 _Dad and I will check this out later._

* * *

Little Bolt didn't hear it when his playmate told him he looked pale. He was too focused on the ball being tossed to and fro - he had to dodge it no matter what it took. _He had to be the last one standing_. All he knew was that he wanted to win. _Win, win, win._

So when he finally felt the dizziness, it was already too late and he'd almost fallen face down to the ground.

"Bolt!" yelled a familiar voice, from someone who'd caught him just in time before he almost blacked out. He looked up.

"... Tou-chan?" he asked, though his vision had become too blurry he could only see specks of orange.

He felt a hand brush softly against his forehead. "You're burning, son. Come with me, we're going home."

"But..." the boy looked around, and he couldn't help but notice the disappointment in his playmates' faces, "... I still want to play."

"No," Naruto said bluntly, and before he could protest further, his father was already carrying him over his shoulder. Boruto started kicking as his legs dangled.

"Bolt, stop," Naruto said, "You need to rest."

"But... I want to win," he whispered back. Knowing any effort was now futile, he stopped struggling.

"We're home!" Naruto announced as they arrived, "... and little Bolt here is sick. T'looks like he'd worn himself out, dodging balls under the sun."

"Naruto-kun," Hinata called, hurrying toward them to look at Bolt over Naruto's shoulder. Her hand felt too cold as she touched the child's cheek. "How long have you been playing under the sun?" she asked.

Bolt looked at her wearily and writhed for his dad to release him. "Just a while, but I'm okay Mom, I'm going to sleep."

His parents watched as he skipped up the stairs, and he went straight to his room.

When Naruto brought Boruto the syrup which Hinata had prepared for him, he was already in bed, but Naruto was relieved to see he wasn't asleep yet.

"Hated to wake you up, so I'm glad you're still not," he announced, sitting at the foot of his son's bed.

Bolt straightened up to reach for the glass in his father's hand. He was already too sleepy to say anything.

"Your mom told me you haven't eaten," Naruto said, eyeing him. "And that you snuck off."

Little Bolt looked at him apologetically, his mouth already burning with the bitter and warm syrup making its way down his throat. He stuck out his tongue to show his father how bad it tasted.

Naruto laughed softly. "I know; I've already had those too. But trust me it will make you feel better."

Bolt kept silent, before speaking to his dad. "Are you mad at me?"

"What?" Naruto asked, "No, of course not. Eat this, if you can," he handed the little boy an apple. "Then promise me you will go to sleep, and I won't get mad at all."

Bolt nodded. Naruto watched him and waited until he had finished the apple. Then he tucked him to bed.

* * *

The chill brought by the evening breeze had already made its way painfully up his feet and legs when Bolt woke up in the middle of the night. He was freezing. He got up momentarily to close the window and felt his head hit something hard as he slumped back down his pillow.

"Ow," he said, scratching his head. From under his pillow he could see something twinkle, then he remembered... "The toads!" he yelped softly to himself.

Feeling too awake to go back to bed, he decided to take the scroll out, unable to resist himself. In the dark, the scribbles glimmered even brighter than it did during the day. He had never seen something as pretty as the stars at night.

He examined the outline at the corner and placed his hand on it once again, yet nothing changed-it was still too big. Underneath, he noticed something he didn't see earlier...

 _'Blood'_...

Bolt swallowed uneasily. "Hm, why does it say blood?"

He remembered the small cut he got from the glass fragment earlier which had outwardly healed. Somehow he had the urge to bite on it, then it bled. It was only a little bit but there was blood, a tiny dot oozing from a very superficial cut.

He was never scared of blood, but his sister was. Without thinking, he brushed his finger against the scroll and rested his hand on it.

"Well, there goes the blood you want," he whispered, as his other hand continued to trace the glimmering scrawls.

It wasn't long before he noticed the light getting brighter, as if the scroll itself was glowing, but before he could react, everything went black.

* * *

A light peck on his cheek was what woke him up. His bed felt too hard and... _rough_? He turned on his side, still feeling too sleepy. He grumbled.

Another peck on his head and he bolted up, rubbing his back. Bolt opened his eyes.

He was met with bright sunlight seeping in from a slightly open door... _a strange, old door._ He looked around and found himself in a really old, small hut, with no one and nothing else but himself... and a sparrow, leaping cheerfully on his lap.

"What?!" he shrieks, jumping and unintentionally scaring the small bird off. "Where is this?!" he muttered nervously to himself, while taking a quick look around. Terrified, he darted out the door.

To his horror, the shed was in the middle of towering trees; he'd never seen trees as high as these before. In spite of the place being being entirely covered by fog, the place was very bright—like it was beginning of daylight.

"Mom? Dad?" Bolt ran around frantically, but his call was met with no reply.

At the left side of the shed, he noticed a narrow path winding its way through the bushes. Left with seemingly no other choice, he mustered enough courage to follow it.

"Moooom?" he yelled, tears slowly forming in his eyes. He took a deep breath. _Where am I?_

Not far away from the shed, the fog slowly revealed a spacious lodge as he approached, which looked just as old as the shed, but not as worn out. Without hesitating, he climbed up the steps to the porch and continued calling out.

"Anyone?" he asked. Still, _nothing._

He felt relieved at finding the front door and all the windows open, and the hut fully furnished. Someone must still be living here.

The place appeared neat and offered undeniable comfort so that little Boruto somehow forgot about his predicament for a moment. He stared in awe at the statues and miniature figures of different animals, and a surprisingly abundance of… _toads_.

 _Weird_ , Bolt noted.

As his interest and curiosity started to peak, a voice boomed loudly from the innermost part of the lodge that made him jump.

"Who's there?!" the voice asked.

Bolt felt weak on his knees - it sounded like the voice of a big man. His eyes focused on the front door but his legs were frozen in fear on the spot where he was standing.

"I said, _who is there_?!" the voice asked, even louder this time.

Boruto ran the quickest he'd ever done in his entire six years of existence, out the door, and around the lodge to look for the path he'd previously come from. He almost cried when the man spoke again.

"If you're not going to answer the question, I'm going to send my enchanted toads to eat you as you sleep tonight," it announced. Bolt once again remained petrified on the spot, his fear almost paralyzing him.

"Boruto!" little Bolt shouted, his voice cracking in an attempt to stifle a cry.

" _Bo - ru - to_?" the voice asked, this time softer than previously. Bolt heard someone step out the front door. He refused to move. "So... _Bo - ru - to_ , do I still need to send my angry toads to look for you? Or are you going to show yourself?"

Bolt felt his breath leave his trembling body, but he forced his legs to take him and face whoever this man was. He didn't have any choice.

The man was now sitting on the steps of the porch, his long and incredibly thick white hair sticking out in all places and covering almost his entire frame. He was wearing some really baggy clothing, and boy was he big - Bolt noted -– and appeared very strong. The child gulped tensely.

The man wasn't looking at him—he was busy fiddling with a twig and tracing the marks of the wooden stairs with it. It wasn't until Bolt was standing right in front of him that the man finally looked up. He had strange lines under his eyes.

"Ooh, now you show yourself," the man said, seemingly unimpressed. "Okay, I won't send my toads to eat anymore," he assured, winking. Realizing the little boy was still terrified, the man loosed up a bit. "I was just kidding."

This did nothing to assure the terrified little Bolt, who was still examining the older man.

"Blonde hair... blue eyes... and _whiskers_ ," the man looked at him from head to foot, whispering to himself but loudly enough so Boruto could still hear. Now, he seemed impressed. "You said your name was... _Boruto_?"

The kid nodded, still refusing to loosen up a bit.

"I'm not a bad guy, you know," the old man said, motioning for the boy to approach him but Bolt did not move. "Where are you from, sneaky little boy?"

Bolt hesitated, before saying, "Sorry... sir, can't tell."

"Hmm," the old man considered before responding. "Did your mom and dad tell you not to talk to strangers?"

Bolt eagerly nodded, still afraid of his threat with toads.

"But you were trespassing my territory," the old man exclaimed, pointing the twig the directly at the boy. "This is my territory and you're here. I feel so threatened, little boy."

"Um," little Bolt cleared his throat fretfully, "I guess I can tell... But just know that if you decide to harm me, my dad will... will do something. He's the... Hokage, you know."

" _THE HOKAGE_?! Ooh, you're from Konohagakure then!" the old man burst in laughter.

At first, Bolt didn't know what the man had found amusing, but upon realizing he just gave the information away, he gasped. He pressed his palm against his mouth and looked as if he was about to cry.

The old man smiled at him. "Do not worry! I have friends in Konoha... or _had_. I'm old, they must be all old too, if not dead," he said, and with this he sensed the child had relaxed a bit as well. "I won't harm you, what do I get from doing that anyway? And I'm not interested, so… you can go now."

Suddenly, the old man got up and turned his back on Boruto, who now felt confused. The old man was heading toward the door when the little boy decided to speak up.

"Wait, old man," he said. The man stopped, and turned to face him. "... _sir_ , I mean. What is your name?"

The man looked at him and narrowed his eyes. "Hmm, why should I tell you that? You might tell daddy Hokage and he might come out to get me. I would not want to deal with all that fuss."

"But... I won't do that," Bolt said.

"Why do you need to know my name, little boy?"

Bolt couldn't tell why, but he really wanted to know the older man's name. "Because I already told you my name, that's why."

"Ahh," the old man sighed, feeling unsatisfied. He placed his hands on his waist and smirked at the boy. "I'll just let you call me the 'toad sage', which is who I really am... _a toad sage_."

"Toad sage?" Bolt asked, blinking. "But that isn't even a name!" he protested.

"Eh," the old man frowned. "That's good enough, for now. I don't want to tell you my name yet... not yet."

"Why?" Bolt asked.

The old man flashed him a really wide smile. "Well, so you'll have a good reason to come back."

Bolt looked surprised and confused. "You want me to come back? I don't even know where this is."

"Only if you want to," the old man replied, now turning his back to Bolt once again to return to his lodge. "I'm pretty sure your mom and dad will be so worried if you've been gone too long. You're the Hokage's son, for goodness' sake, can't mess with that."

He looked at the boy one more time as he stepped in, "If you go back to the hut, maybe it will take you home. Then just come back here the same way you did... that is, if you still want to," he said, pointing toward the path Boruto could not find earlier.

Bolt didn't know what to say, but he guessed the old man was right. Also, he was anxious to know if the shed would really take him back home again.

"Take care, kid," the man said, before closing the door, leaving the boy no choice but to depart alone through the path.

Then again, the clueless Boruto ran, as fast as he could, looking back only once, because as interesting as it was, the only place he'd want to go to now was his home.

… Little did the both of them know, this was just the beginning of several visits to come.

* * *

 **AN:** I've had this weird story idea for a while now but I never really considered writing it. Good thing I had so much time to procrastinate with my adult responsibilities yesterday that I was able to write half of this chapter, and felt like it was such a waste not to continue. XD

Not sure how many chapters there will be. But it's not really very plot-driven... just a feel good fic. Con/crit appreciated and thank you for reading! :)


End file.
